A/N: Hello lovelies! I have been having a tough time with final work for school and reading your reviews instantly brighten my day! Anyway here is Chapter 4 [and because I've already written it Chapter 5 will follow]. It seems these two have taken over my life and I find myself constantly thinking about them and thus writing! I'm grateful to have you all, along for the ride!
Standing outside her chamber door, Constance paused, mentally preparing herself for what was behind it. She hadn't gone to her chamber since her conversation with Imogen that afternoon. She felt quite ridiculous standing there, staring at the door unable to reach for the handle to open it. "Well if you can't open the damn door Constance appear inside instead." She scolded herself, folding her arms and vanishing a moment, only to reappear on the other side.
Some crazy part if her, almost hoped Imogen would be there still, curled up on the bed with some sports magazine or cliché romance novel. The sight that greeted Constance however, was beyond painful. With Imogen's belongings gone, the room was too empty, too cold, and void of any proof anyone lived there. The bookshelves contained only Constance's spell and potions volumes, organized alphabetically, the desk was bare and even the bed which was usually only half made; as Constance insisted on making her side every morning, while Imogen refused, was straight and neat on both sides. She felt overwhelmed as her knees began to buckle under her for the second time that day. Slumping down the door, she hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed silently.
After a few minutes, she lifted her head, she'd have to do Lights Out in a moment and she wouldn't let the girls see her like this. As she put a hand to the floor to push herself up, she saw something under the bed in the shadows. Crawling on her knees, Constance pulled it out and felt her face heat instantly. It was one of Imogen's bras; no doubt, Constance herself had carelessly tossed it there during one of their nights of passion. As if it had scorched her, she dropped it to the floor. "Well I can't very well keep it." She muttered to herself as she dressed in her purple nightgown, pulling a black robs over her shoulders and tying it at the waist and freeing her hair from its usual bun.
As she checked the girls were all in bed, specifically their own bed in the case of Griselda Blackwood and Fenella Feverfew who had yet again tried to sleep in the same one; she thought about what to do with the article of clothing, or rather underclothing that sat on the desk in her room. She supposed as difficult and mortifying as it would be to do so, she ought to return it.
All too soon Constance found herself outside the door of Imogen's room, faced with the same dilemma she'd had at her own room and this time she couldn't very well materialize inside. Finally she got up the gall to rap twice on the door, sharply.
Hearing the knock at the door, Imogen got up from where she sat at her desk, assigning relay teams to the girls for tomorrow's lesson and opened it. There stood Constance Hardbroom, her hair loose around her shoulders, in only her nightclothes and holding a piece of cloth. She realized that 'cloth' was one of her bras and she turned pink.
"Good Evening Miss Hardbroom." She greeted the potions mistress, her eyes looking at the floor.
"Good Evening Imo-Miss Drill. " She corrected herself quickly as she held up the garment in her hand. "I've come to return your…brassiere." Constance managed, her cheeks as red as Imogen's. "I assumed you would want it back." She finished holding it out.
"Oh, well thank you Con-Miss Hardbroom, that's thoughtful of you." In truth, Imogen wasn't paying attention to what Constance was saying but rather her face…was Constance blushing? A spark of hope lit in her heart as she took a step closer, Constance's eyes widening in alarm. "Maybe, she didn't mean it. Maybe she was just being Constance; maybe we still have a chance." At least that's what she told herself as her lips crashed in Constance's in a passionate kiss, her fingers knotting in the long, dark waves.
At first Constance tried to resist , but as Imogen had already done countless times before, she found herself slipping further under Imogen's spell as she allowed Imogen to pull her into the room and push her down onto the bed, their lips still locked, focused only on the sweet, harshness of the blonde's lips on her own. She moaned softly as Imogen's tongue slid between her lips and into her mouth, feeling her own be caressed lovingly by it.
Constance was in such a trance, so intoxicated by Imogen and her touches and kisses she forgot what she'd done that very afternoon and her reasoning for doing so, until Imogen's knee between her thighs and whispered words, snapped her out of it and she shot up from the bed, practically knocking the blonde to the floor in her haste.
"Miss Drill! After our conversation today this is hardly professional behaviour!" She exclaimed in a shrill voice, forgetting Imogen's room wasn't sound proofed with a spell as hers was.
Imogen sat up her eyes burning with hurt and anger. "Tell me then, to my face Constance, that what just happened meant less than nothing to you." Her tone was like a slap in the face to Constance, who struggled to answer.
"I..that was…You caught me off guard Miss Drill. If you are looking for confirmation of your skills in the art of seduction then I will admit, they are more than satisfactory, but other than that I-" Imogen interrupted the witch before she could finish, her tone as biting and sharp as before.
"That's bullshit and you bloody well know that! You kissed me back! You are as much to blame as I am!" Imogen seethed and Constance folded her arms. "No, you don't get to just-"She didn't bother finishing as she had already vanished into thin air. "Fine! You win! I give up on you Constance Hardbroom!" With an exasperated sigh Imogen sank onto the bed as Constance caught the tail end of what she'd said, before she had completely vanished.
As she re-materialized into her own chamber, she immediately reached for the bottle of Wide Awake potion she'd left on the vanity and downed the liquid. If there was one thing she knew for certain, she wouldn't be sleeping tonight. The potion burned the back of her throat, like a sort of Scottish brandy. Constance hadn't taken the potion in months, having spent every night Imogen however the familiar hold it took on her senses was strange but not unwelcome.
She wished the potion had the capability to lift mental fatigue as well as physical so she could forget about what had happened and ignore the swelling and tingling of her lips. Slowly she removed the bottle from her lips, grimacing at the ring of burgundy lipstick she'd left around the rim. She smudged it off with her finger only to find the colour had stained her pale fingertip instead. A long sigh left the brunette's lips. "How appropriate, I can't fix the things I make a mess of; I just transfer the damage from place to place." She said, sitting at her desk to begin the stacks of marking she had yet to complete. It was about to be a very long night indeed.
